


Paint My Body Gold

by quoth_the_ravenclaw



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fisting, M/M, a tiny bit of hand kink, because honestly how do you write fisting without at least a little bit of hand kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 13:44:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11556426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quoth_the_ravenclaw/pseuds/quoth_the_ravenclaw
Summary: “Hajime,” He whines. “I want you. I want this.”Iwaizumi nods and bites his bottom lip in concentration, the way he always does when he’s about to take Oikawa apart piece by piece and build him back up in the best ways imaginable. The action makes Oikawa buzz with want (everything about Iwaizumi does, really).-It's fisting. What more summary do you need?





	Paint My Body Gold

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday, oikawa, i hope you enjoy this entire fist up your ass.

 

 

It starts with a kiss and a promise.

_“Whatever you want,”_ Iwaizumi breathes into Oikawa’s ear as they rut together.

“Anything?” Oikawa asks.

It’s a dangerous promise.

The rhythm of Iwaizumi’s hips stutters against his, like Iwaizumi’s just realized his own mistake. But they’re both stubborn and young and desperately in love with each other, so instead of backing down, Iwaizumi stares straight into his eyes and nods. “Whatever you want.”

-

It leads to them on the bed, Oikawa naked on the sheets and Iwaizumi looming over him. They’re both hard and panting, shining with sweat, while Iwaizumi works a hand between them. Oikawa lets out a breathy moan at the drag of Iwaizumi’s fingers inside him, slow but steady and sparking his nerves alight like kindling.

“C’mon, more,” He urges, undulating his hips in an attempt to get him closer, deeper, harder.

They’ve never done more than three fingers before, and Oikawa can’t help the way his breath catches as Iwaizumi slides his pinkie finger inside along the rest.

“Still good?” Iwaizumi asks, voice strained.

“Yeah, keep going.”

Iwaizumi is careful, working his fingers in maddeningly slow, only to pull them back out again. Oikawa wants to grab him and shake him, but instead he ends up gasping out his name as those fingers curl inside him just right. Above him, Iwaizumi only grins. Cheeky bastard.

Iwaizumi builds up a rhythm, working Oikawa over until he’s a whining, writhing mess, eyes glazed and precum painting his stomach. It’s good, _it’s so good,_ but it’s not what he wants, not quite, not yet-

And then Iwaizumi is drawing his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness is a palpable ache that leaves him weak and wanting on the bed.

“Ready?” Iwaizumi asks, breath hot against his collarbone.

Oikawa feels goosebumps rise as he nods.

“Need you to tell me,” Iwaizumi murmurs. His lips brush the freshly raised goosebumps, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses down his chest and over the beat of his heart.

“ _Hajime,_ ” He whines. “I want you. I want _this._ ”

Iwaizumi nods and bites his bottom lip in concentration, the way he always does when he’s about to take Oikawa apart piece by piece and build him back up in the best ways imaginable. The action makes Oikawa buzz with want (everything about Iwaizumi does, really), and he feels a shiver of anticipation ripple through his body.

“It’ll be easier if you- on your knees,” Iwaizumi says, face red.

Oikawa scrambles to comply, turning onto his elbows and knees. It’s not the first time they’ve done it like this, but something about the position feels different this time. He feels vulnerable, like he’s on display.

Iwaizumi runs a hand from the bend of his knee up his thigh, calloused fingers tracing the thick muscle as it twitches under his touch. He grabs at Oikawa's ass then, strong hands spreading him apart. Oikawa can’t hide the whine that works its way out of his throat, even as he drops his head to bury his face in the sheets, but he stays on his knees, lets himself be manhandled. Viewed. Consumed. Iwaizumi’s thumbs dig in, so so close to where Oikawa wants them to be most, and then they’re gone, Iwaizumi withdrawing to lean back and away and no, no, _no_ , where is he going, why isn’t he touching-

There’s the snap of a lid, and then Iwaizumi is on him again, one hand clutching his hip while the other stretches his open, fingers slick with too much lube. Oikawa knows it’s important, knows he should be patient, but god he just wants it all _now._ The anticipation bubbles in his stomach, threatening to overflow at any moment. This time, when Iwaizumi slips four fingers in, it’s with the promise of _more_.

Oikawa doesn’t try to hide his whine when Iwaizumi presses the tip of a thumb against his entrance. _Yes_ , he wants to say, but the words get caught in his throat, mixed up in a jumble of sound and then Iwaizumi is tucking his thumb in, and Oikawa’s breath is gone.

Iwaizumi grunts and suddenly his entire fist is twisting and sinking in. Oikawa lets out a high, staccato cry at the sensation. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before, leaves him shaky and breathless on the mattress.

“Color?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Green,” he gasps out, or tries to. He can’t be sure his mouth is working, can’t be sure of anything, but he tries. “Green, green, please.”

Iwaizumi bites his lip but nods, and then he’s working his fist in little circles inside Oikawa. It’s the tiniest movement, but it’s enough to have Oikawa gasping and grabbing at the sheets. He’s so full, Iwaizumi pressing against every nerve and filling up every synapse in his brain with nothing but _Hajime, Hajime, Hajime._

“Fuck, Tooru.”

Oikawa knows Iwaizumi is talking to him, feels the vibrations of his voice up and down his spine, but he can’t place the words, stuck instead on the sensation of his body opening up under Iwaizumi’s careful touch.

Oikawa feels out of his mind it's so much ( _too much, not enough_ ), and then Iwaizumi’s free hand is skimming up his thigh, rough fingertips leaving a trail of fire through his senses. Oikawa almost sobs out when instead of touching his dick, Iwaizumi traces the taut-spasming muscles of his abs. Iwaizumi presses down, then, feeling the bulge of his own fist inside Oikawa, and Oikawa feels him _everywhere,_ so deep it's like he's in his stomach. There's Iwaizumi’s thighs against his ass, Iwaizumi’s sweaty chest against his back, Iwaizumi’s hot breath on his neck, Iwaizumi’s voice in his ear, rough like gravel as he whispers _you're so good for me_.

Something bursts inside him and suddenly he’s coming untouched, body a livewire white-hot and electric.

In the aftermath, his mind and body buzzes. He lets himself drift.

-

It ends with him on his back, Iwaizumi running a warm washcloth over his body. He’s a mess, he must be, sweaty and spent, but in spite of it all, he feels clean, fresh. Reborn.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Mmm,” Oikawa hums in response. Next to him, Iwaizumi chuckles.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, leaning over to press kisses to his eyelids. Oikawa isn't sure what he likes more, the warm afterglow or the way Iwaizumi is always so affectionate.

Iwaizumi pulls away, and Oikawa sits up to follow, letting out a sharp gasp at the sudden sting. Oh, he's going to feel that tomorrow.

Iwaizumi’s hands are on him in an instant, eyes anxious and intent. Before he can get too worried, Oikawa lets himself slump into his shoulder, leaving lazy, open-mouthed kisses up his neck.

“‘sgood,” he slurs. Iwaizumi pets his hair indulgently. (Oikawa isn't sure which one of them he’s indulging.)

“You’re incorrigible,” Iwaizumi says with a snort.

Oikawa settles more firmly into his lap, feels a hardness against his thigh. Beneath him, Iwaizumi blushes.

“You didn't…”

“Doesn't matter,” Iwaizumi says.

“Nooooo,” Oikawa whines, kisses transforming into teething. “Want - you - to feel - good - too,” He says, each word punctuated with a bite.

“You’re tired.”

“m’not,” Oikawa says, even as his eyes slip closed. Okay, maybe he’s a _little_ tired.

“In the morning,” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa draws a breath to protest, but then Iwaizumi is laying them both down, drawing the blankets up around them and everything is soft and warm.

“Mmkay,” He slurs out. “But ‘m wakin’ you up with the best blowjob of your whole life.”

Beneath him, Iwaizumi chuckles. Oikawa’s asleep before he can even respond.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this was self-beta'd at 2 am, so please feel free to point out any typos
> 
> find on tumblr @quoth-the-ravenclaw


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